Breathless
by Gizzi1213
Summary: Prompt fill for the NBC Revolution community's "42 Prompts in 5 Days" challenge. Prompt "first kiss", Charlie and Bass' respective points of view.
1. Breathless - Charlie's POV

It wasn't a first kiss for either of them, but it was the first kiss between them. A kiss that should never have happened yet she didn't want it to end.

Charlie wasn't even sure who initiated it. One moment found them engaging in their normal not-quite-friendly, yet not-exactly-hostile bickering. The next found her pressed back against the rickety modified truck chassis, her hands trapped between them.

Shoving Monroe away was the smart course of action and it was Charlie's intention, until her eyes locked with his. The depths of his azure gaze held her mesmerized; she felt a shiver run down her spine at their intensity.

He must have felt her reaction, she realized, as she watched a slow grin spread across his face, framed by ridiculously sexy dimples. There should be a rule against a simple rearranging of facial muscles producing such a transformation, from scowling psychopath to a walking orgasm in two seconds flat.

It had a way of screwing with a woman's resolve, as heat and _want_ rushed to her core.

"Bas…"

The brush of his lips against hers brought whatever she was about to say to an end, but it didn't silence her. She moaned her response as she opened her mouth to him, allowing him freedom to explore her, taste and tease her.

She wasn't sure how long the kiss lasted; it seemed like forever and like an instant all at once. But when they finally broke apart, both panting and breathless, she found her arms wrapped around his neck, her fingers buried in his untamable curls.

Stepping out of his arms, pulling his hands out from under her tank top, was an exercise in will power until now she didn't know she possessed. His hands reached for her briefly, then dropped to his sides, fisted into the fabric of his trousers.

"We won't make it to Willoughby this way," she called over her shoulder, as she climbed up onto the driver's perch. She thought she heard him mutter something, but chose to ignore it, even if she could no longer ignore her attraction to the man sitting beside her.


	2. Breathless - Bass' POV

Damned woman had a mouth on her, one that drove him to distraction. When she wasn't spewing venom or her endless sass at him, it was a fucking gorgeous looking mouth. Full, pouty bottom lip that he'd had more than one indecent thought center around. Hell, it is more like the thoughts centered on said pouty lips wrapped around his cock.

Bass wasn't sure what bit of smart mouthed sass finally pushed the button on his barely held self-control. All he knew was one minute he wanted her to shut her mouth, and the next he had her pinned against the cart they'd acquired from their friendly neighborhood bounty hunter.

It only took his body a heartbeat to fully register and appreciate the soft feminine curves pressed against him. He looked down at her, ready to offer some lame excuse for his behavior, until his eyes locked with hers.

Their steady gaze held his, and he realized, not for the first time, that never once had she backed down to him, even as he felt her suppress a shiver of apprehension. This tiny slip of a woman stared him down with a fearlessness that only two people had ever done before her.

One was her bitch of a mother.

The other was her uncle who would feed Bass his own balls if he laid a hand on Charlie.

The certainty of that thought, and the realization that life wasn't worth living without a few risks, forced a grin out of him.

He was about to pull away when she started to say his name. Not Monroe, or General, or President, in that cutting, mocking tone she used to perfection. No, she started to say his name.

_"Bas…" _

And just that quickly, he feels her lips on his, feels the vibration of her moaning into his mouth as he deepens his taste of the forbidden sweetness of her. He hears his own answering groan as her hands, already trapped between them and pressed against his pecs, slide against his aroused nipples as she brings her hands up to twist them in his hair, pulling his mouth more firmly against her own.

He's hard and aching and fighting a losing battle against taking her against the side of the cart when one of them, he's not sure who, breaks them apart, both panting and breathless.

It's not until he feels her pull his hands from under her tank top that he misses the weight of her breasts in his palms, her puckered nipples under his thumbs.

He reaches for her, unwilling to concede the interlude is over, and then thinks better of it. He has to grip his trousers to keep them from acting of their own accord.

He barely registers her saying something about Willoughby as she climbs up into the cart. He's muttering something about the hell with Willoughby when he's got a hard on the size of a redwood when he catches her gazing quizzically at him.

As he climbs up next to her, all he can think is "It's going to be one damned long drive to Willoughby."


End file.
